


orange.

by oiru



Series: honey and love songs. [7]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Fluff, M/M, i'm still trying to tag these somehow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 05:46:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18337397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oiru/pseuds/oiru
Summary: everything safe and peachy sweet.





	orange.

**Author's Note:**

> did you really just think these're over?   
> sue me, whatever this is.

tyler says that josh's hair looks like the sun on his childhood drawings and tastes like ripe mangoes.  
josh tells him that this morning he watched the sunrise and held mandarin orange slices on his tongue for as long as possible.  
he says _it’s a violent flashback._

tyler left his heart in the passenger seat of josh's car. josh said he wanted something orange & then there were the streetlamps. josh laughs and the birds go crazy. tyler doesn’t know much, but he's watched the sky bow its head for josh. it’s not love. just a descent into sanity. his mouth has seen better days & by that he means he can’t pray for anything but josh's hands in the dark. tyler's heart’s kind of like a dryer sheet — clings to anything that gets too close. he'd walk around with a warning sign if he could bear the weight. josh's a safe driver, tyler's a wreck in the middle of the interstate. tyler's holding his breath until josh's out of the room. he's something tyler won’t ever know how to want correctly. reckless ambition.

josh says maybe they just missed each other.

tyler says,

_you’re right._

but he doesn’t know when the missing stops.

***

so josh wants to know what the inside of tyler's head looks like on those nights that he can’t breathe steady enough to sleep. when the heat gets heavy enough to make the walls all look orange. kinda like that song with the really depressing lyrics but tyler can’t fully make them out over the bass line, so he's to google them & that makes it a little hard to swallow. or the way tyler lays his hand over lit candles, open flames,

he says,

_— look at me control the light_

_— maybe witchcraft is real after all._

_— you think i’d be better off if i swallowed the rose quartz instead of just carrying it around in my pocket?_

tyler feels dizzy but he has’t been near a merry-go-round since he's 10.

he asks josh if he ever forgets the broken parts of childhood.  
falling asleep in the sand with the sun on your back. waking up to your body under the waves. nobody blinking an eye.

some days tyler can’t touch certain colors because they rot down his teeth. some days the noise is a saving grace. some days he wonders if every part of his body can have a migraine at the same time.

***

tyler is an early riser, meaning he always gets to watch the sun dance over josh's skin long before his eyes open.

he says,

_— see, my favorite thing in the world is pink skies, and you look like one that i can touch._

glittering with light. chasing after fireflies in the backyard. this is the bad love song, turned up to full volume, and they can’t help but sing along. this is the moon swaying along with them. they're clumsy, but always laughing, their mouths stained red by the cherries. tyler's the tired bird, settling his wings for once. all this running, has worn him out, and josh's offering his bed. offering his hands, his throat. tyler's dancing with roses in his hair and josh can’t stop staring. tyler's in full bloom thanks to his green thumb. they're growing, together, like it should be, their roots tangling. the sun dances on josh's skin. the roses bloom from beneath tyler's skin. they put even the fireflies dance to shame. even the moon can’t stop staring.

tyler says he remembers that lazy, sun-soaked morning. josh's voice, still heavy with sleep,

_— you know, if you stand at the right angle, you actually kind of look like an angel._

this is a poem about the lack of death in the room. they’re cocooned in feathers. neither of them are writing about all the hurt. josh's clean, and tyler's wide awake, and they both know how rarely the two coincide. tyler doesn’t mind if josh's gone for long stretches of time, as long as all those roads are leading him back to this. tyler's read stories about the boys following josh from city to city, forgetting who they are. tyler thinks he prefers the role of souvenir shop, at least then he never loses himself. he still gets to leave josh voice mails about what color each day feels like. when josh comes home, it’s always orange. red just started seeming too angry for him.

tyler says,

_— get me with those sunset eyes._

there's nothing but orange blossoms in the air.

_— think i could fall in love if you weren’t so scared of watching me fall._


End file.
